Losing You
by IrishKitty
Summary: A series of chapters featuring various X-Men's POV after Kitty Pryde ends up in a coma
1. Default Chapter

Series Title: Losing You  
Over all Rating: PG-13  
Summary: AU/C.  
A collection of chapters that shows various character's thoughts after Kitty ends up in a coma.  
Feedback: I crave it. I'm a little feedback whore :)  
  
And now on to the story... 


	2. Counting Down

Title: Counting Down  
Rating: PG-13 for some slight swear words  
Disclaimer: The usual, the characters belong to the WB, Marvel comics etc. I'm merely dabbling with them :)  
Summary: AU/C. Various member's POV over the death of Kitty. This one's told from Kurt's POV.  
Notes: Since it's all Kurt's thoughts i haven't wrote them with a German accent. One because it's way too complicated unless he's actually speaking. And two because knowing me i'd end up mucking it up.  
Feedback: Is always appreciated. This is my first fic so constructive criticism is welcomed.  
  
I hate coming here. Before the accident i'd never set foot in a hospital, what with looking the way i usually do. However now i know this particular hospital like the back of my normally blue furred hand. Ask me where any room is and i'll be able to tell you in seconds. Sadly, that's how much time i've ended up spending here.  
  
16 weeks, 12 hours, 6 minutes and 26 seconds  
  
Of course the part of the hospital i know best is Block 18. The "Terminally Neurologically Damaged" block as the pessimistic, diploma owning, stuck-up bastards known as doctors like to call it. To those of us of the visiting kind it's simply called "The Block Of No Hope" because after a few weeks that's exactly what we have. No hope left.  
  
16 weeks, 12 hours, 15 minutes and 13 seconds  
  
My hand closes on the doorhandle of Room 314, opening it i chuckle slightly at the familar setting. The white coloured walls, linoleum covered floor and the ever present beeping of the machine keeping her physically alive. Even with the almost daily change of colourful flowers the place manages to keep up it's bland, haunting look. No wonder she's still asleep, no one in their right mind would want to wake-up to this decor. I can remember Evan telling me, Kitty and Rogue, during an ER marathon that hospitals are so white because it's easier for the staff to whitewash the blood stains away. Personally i think it's a sign that they've already given-up hope on their patients. The way they see it the patients are never going to stay here long so what's the point in wasting money in decorating the place. Like i said, bastards the lot of them.  
  
16 weeks, 12 hours, 30 minutes and 22 seconds  
  
I've come to realise that holding her cold, pale, lifeless hand is like clinging to a fraying rope. Sooner or later the inevitable will happen, it'll snap and you'll fall. Doesn't stop you clutching it though. Looking up at her un-naturally pale face is like looking at a ghost. We used to tease her by calling her a ghost what with her walking through walls but now she really is one. A shadow of her former self. I'd do anything to bring her back, to have her smile brightly at me. Eyes twinkling merrily as she moans about my "bamfing" or that i've raided the fridge again and ate her pre-prepared lunch. I'd do anything just to have her squeeze my hand back. To here her whisper my name, some small reaction that let's me know she's still in there. That she's still our Kitty. But i know now that enough is enough.   
  
"16 weeks, 12 hours, 43 minutes and 16 seconds", I whisper to her, "That's how long i waited for you Kätzchen"  
Leaning forward i place a soft, chaste kiss on her unreacting lips before turning and walking into the hall. A small nod from me let's the doctor know i'm ready. So we all file back into Coma Room 314 that's home to the practically lifeless body of Kitty Pryde, every single one of us. Scott, Jean, Rogue, Evan, Ororo, Logan and the Professer. All of us watching silently -hardly daring to breathe- as Dr.Anderson, that told me yesterday it was over, walks slowly to the beeping machine. A small click and the beeping stops abruptly. That's it. Game, set and match as Evan would say.   
The silence is shattered suddenly by a loud sob from Jean as she turns and buries her face in Scott's chest. That's all it takes to get the rest of them going, classic chain reaction.   
And through my tears i look skywards up at the white-washed ceiling that seems to cruelly imitate the white clouds of heaven and whisper softly, "One minute and 23 seconds"  
And so the counting begins all over again. 


	3. The Best Little Girl In The World

Title: The Best Little Girl In The World  
Rating: PG-13 at the most  
Summary: AU/C. Various members' thoughts over the death of Kitty Pryde.   
This one's told from Evan's POV.  
Disclaimer: Charcters aren't mine. They belong to Marvel Comics, the WB and whoever else has shares in them.  
Feedback: Much appreciated :o)  
  
According to some people the quickest way to stop grieving is to share your pain with another, to let it all come out. Yeah well, been there, done that and from what i've heard deja vu ain't the best feeling in the world. Which is why i keep it all bottled up, it's why i never told anyone. Never *will* tell anyone.  
In fact i only come to see her the one time when i was sure no one else would be here, it was safest that way y'know? Meant no one'dl be able to question my actions or psyche 101 me. When they sent me to the school shrink just after the accident i told him the same thing i told Jean and the Prof, stay the hell outta my head. I mean if i ain't got my thoughts then i got nothing right? Especially since *she's* gone now.  
  
I guess you could say that after the accident i reverted to type, i decided to play the hand i was dealt. Only took me a couple of weeks to get into one of the leading gangs in NYC, of course my powers helped quite a bit. I'm the typical African-American, New York bad-ass that spends half his time downtown. Known by my rep as Spyke, one hard-as-nails bastard that ya don't wanna mess with. Aunty-O asked me last week if i did drugs, she didn't have to me a telepath to know the answer. Pulled me into a hug and whispered she's sorry, i told her she doesn't have to be, it ain't her fault. Besides, i kinda look the part now and if even if i wasn't messed-up with this shit then most people would probably think i was anyway. I'm about six foot something, wear scruffy looking clothes with a long black, leather jacket draped over me and the swagger alone tells you not to mess with me. Yep, regular little bad-boy is what i am.  
  
Only i'm not. Cause see if you dig down far enough -assuming your willing to look- you'll find the bane of my existence, the solution to my problem, my real addiction. It's not cocaine or cheap cigs, it's her, it's *always* her. Little Kitty Pryde. I knew i'd never come close to touching her, i think we all knew that. Me, Lance and Kurt. She was too...too...precious, other-worldly in the way she herself didn't realise. The way none of us realised until she left us. Left me. She's always leaving me. When i got the call though i knew i had to come, how could i not? One last chance to try and bring her back after all, she's been hovering between life and death for so long. Pity she had to pick the latter huh?   
  
So i'm sitting here -beside her bed as Aunty-O and the others wait patiently out in hall- reminiscing on the past few months. Trying to remember where exactly it all went wrong and i've come to the conclusion that there isn't a specific point. It was a gradual thing, my first mistake being the unthinkable and falling in love with her. There, i said it. And i reckon i'll have to say it a couple more times too for this shrink the Prof's set me up with. I could've got over this though if only...I chuckle to myself. If only, how many times have i thought that over the past few months? If only she hadn't waited for me and Kurt to finish soccer practice. If only we hadn't been playing around while walking home. If only i hadn't kicked that god damn ball out on to the road causing her to go and get it. God, i can remember it all so clear. We fell into a sort of trance as she ran out on to the road to grab the soccer ball. I couldn't move, i couldn't shout. I could only watch helplessly as the car collided with her fragile body and she was tossed-up into the air, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Next thing i knew Kurt's cradling her head in his lap in the middle of the road, blood trickling down her head and screaming at me -and i mean screaming- to call an ambulance while he whispers reassuring words of German to her still, lifeless body.   
  
I squeeze my eyes shut and lean forward in my chair whispering in her ear, "It was my fault, i'm so sorry". I whisper this so quietly that i'm not even sure she can hear. Assuming of course that people in coma's can hear anything at all. I needed this though. To admit it was my fault, to say i'm sorry and to say goodbye.   
To say goodbye to Katherine, Kitty, ShadowKat, Kit. Whatever name they put on her gravestone, whatever name she's remembered by, to me she'll always be the best little girl in the world. Cause that's exactly what she was. Even if i'll never have the chance to let her know. 


	4. Does the Sun Shine?

Title: Does the Sun Shine?  
Rating: PG-13   
Disclaimer: The usual, the characters belong to the WB, Marvel comics etc. I'm merely dabbling with them :)  
Summary: AU/C. Various member's POV over the death of Kitty.   
This is Rogue's turn.  
Feedback: Is always appreciated and welcomed.   
Author's Notes: I don't really like this one, it was hard to get inside Rogue's mind. So if anyone also doesn't like it and could give me some pointers on how to improve it i'd be enternally grateful :)  
  
Ah know she never thought too much about me. We weren't exactly the best of friends, sure we shared a room and lived in the same house but we were just so...different. Her playing the part of a ditzy, valley girl and me being, well y'know, me. Doesn't mean i never thought about her though. I kinda envied the way the others doted on her, even Wolverine was fond of her. I reckon it's cause she was the youngest, the baby of the dysfunctional "family" we all made up, everyone wanted to play a part in protecting her fromt he world. Too bad they never succeeded. And sure we had out disagreements, all right we had a *lot* of disagreements but that doesn't mean we didn't care about each other. She was ma friend, a sorta surrogate sister and i never wanted her to look like this. To look so dead.  
  
I guess that's what she is though, dead or she will be in a coupla minutes anyway. Still, near enough right? I can remember her being so fulla life the day of the car accident. Chattering on about the up-coming Spring Fling an' how she was gonna make me all up and give the guys something ta talk about it. None of us went to the Spring Fling that year.  
  
God damnit, i wish that stupid machine would shut-up with it's stupid beeping. It's keeping me from possessing the illusion that she ain't in a coma, that she's just sleeping. And she's gonna wake-up real soon. Yeah, anytime now...who am i kiddin? She's in a coma, people only wake-up from comas in the movies as Kurt so kindly pointed out yesterday during the debate -more like scremaing match- about letting our Kitten go. I don't have ta tell ya who won do ah? Kinda surprising really, i always thought Kurt'd be the one hanging on to the last shred of hope, he used to be so fulla optimism. Now he's just a shell, a hollow, broken, shell representing the person he used to be. Ah guess losing someone close can do that to i guy. Ah mean, look what happened to Evan...  
  
"Well Kitten, looks like ma time's up" I chuckle lightly, "Guess we finally got somethin' in common eh?" Bending down to kiss her forehead i brush a stray lock of auburn hair out her eyes. The least i can do, right? Turning i slowly walk out the room and back into the safe, reassuring, predictable hall. I lean against the door with my eyes closed for a moment to try and collect my scattered thoughts.   
  
"Will you miss her?"  
The question comes out of nowhere and it takes me a minute to work out who it comes from. Opening my eyes i find myself staring into the face of Jean Grey. I suppose i could lie about my answer but the nosy bitch'd probably just search around in my head for the right one anyway. So for once i'll give her an honest answer, straight from the heart.   
Smiling lazily at her i reply quietly, before heading down the hall, "Does the sun shine?" 


	5. Like a Tiny Porcelian Doll

Title: Like a Tiny Porcelian Doll  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Marvel Comics, the WB and whoever has dibs on them.   
Summary: An insight into certain character's thoughts as they say goodbye to the comatose Kitty Pryde  
Logan's turn this time. Boy has this one been hard to right :)  
  
Life. For being such a tiny word it holds so much meaning, a bit like this one lying here in front of me right now. Her body's so small and fragile looking, from the moment i walked in here i could tell she was ready to go. Pity i'm not ready to let go of her though, she'll be the first person i know -that i ever really cared about- to die. I wish i'd spent more time with her while she was still in the land of the living. I wish i'd had more time to sit here by her bedside instead of chasing the near-suicidal Porcupine 'round NYC. I think waking-up in the local hospital with umpteen sitiches on his wrists suddenly put everything into perspective. That and my fist.  
  
Anyway, i'm not here to spend our last few minutes together talking about Evan. I'm here to talk about you and me...us. Not that there ever really was an "us" eh Half-pint? Sure, we had a few bonding trips every now and again. Like the time you and the Elf stole away in the back of the Blackbird and nearly had your head's sliced off. I never did get to ground the two of you for that. Or for the time you, Rogue and the Porcupine played bait for Sabertooth. Oh sure, i *said* you were all grounded but then you had to give me those puppy-dog eyes of yours and...well you know what happened. Those eyes worked wonders on all males over the age of fifteen. And don't try to tell me you don't know what i'm talking about, some mornings i'd see you making the Elf carry your books out to the car without him expecting anything in return...then again you didn't exactly need to use that look of yours. Poor kid was smitten with you right from the start. Hell, he got so desperate he started coming to *me* for advice.  
  
You know, you always reminded me of of someone. Their face has been lost too long in the murkey depths of my mind, if you can even call it that. It's been subjected to too many things to make much sense anymore. Don't worry Half-pint, i promise i won't let your memory get lost too. I've still got a picture of you anyway, so i can remind myself every now and again. It's of that time you and the rest of the kids made me drive you all down to the beach cause the Elf was grounded cause of the blonde spunky kid. You're standing there grinning into the camera with an unhappy Rogue and a beaming Jubilee. That picture holds is the key to everything that's you. The cheeky grin, the large green eyes filled with excitement, slightly tanned skin glittering in the afternoon sun. You looked so happy that day, full of life. Not like you look now. The image you portray now is one of an extremely pale, unmoving, fragile looking little girl. And i'm scared to touch you in case you break. Right now i can only think of one thing when i look at you. And you know what that is?   
That your like a tiny porcelian doll. 


	6. She Was Never Really Mine

Title: She Was Never Really Mine  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Sadly none belong to me :( WB & Marvel owned characters  
Summary: A collection of chapters that shows various character's thoughts after Kitty ends up in a coma.  
You asked for the Brotherhood's POVs and now you've got them  
First up, Lance   
Feedback: I crave it. I'm addicted to it :o)  
  
"Vhat is *he* doing here!"  
"Kurt calm down, this a hospital remember. And he needs to do this as much as the rest of us. He needs to say goodbye"  
"But professer-"  
"No Kurt, Kitty would have wanted this. You know she would have"  
The over-sized smurf seems to contemplate this for a moment before nodding slightly and moving out the way to let me through the door.   
Of course no matter what the Proffeser says nothing stops him from muttering something in German at me before he disappears in a cloud of smoke and then reappears in the chair next to Evan. At least, i *think* that's Evan.  
  
I don't have to be fluent in German to figure out that what he just said to me wasn't a compliment. And if i'm being honest -for a change - then i'll tell you that whatever he said is probably true. I know i'm a jerk, a selfish bastard, a worthless piece of trash and whatever else blue-boy comes up with in the next five minutes. And i know that i don't deserve this chance. This chance to say goodbye to something special. To say goodbye to her.  
  
I can't help but smile a little as i'm met with the image of her pretty face again. Walking slowly over to the bed i place a single rose in the vase that i know'll be emptied in the next hour. She looks so peaceful lying here and i can imagine the beating of her heart in synch with the beeping of the small machine next to her. Funny how something so small can perform a task so big.  
  
I used to call her "pretty-kitty" whenever i talked to her. I wasn't just flirting, she really is pretty. I can remember her eyes being the most brilliant colour of green. I could've sat for hours looking into those eyes, i guy could get lost in the seemingly never-ending depths. Getting her alone was the hardest the part, i mean i know people say girls travel in packs but the X-Geeks tended not to go *anywhere* alone. Safety in numbers 'n all that. Kinda ironic then, that she was still able to get put in a freakin' coma when walking with not one but *two* of them. Safety in numbers? Yeah right.  
  
With the ever-present smirk on my face i stick my hands in my pockets and turn to leave calling over my shoulder, "Be seeing you gorgeous"   
I nod my thanks at the Professer and pause slightly at the chair -the person i think is Evan- is sitting in. Bending down to look him in the eye i mutter with a low whistle, "Boy did she mess you up man"   
  
Looking back on the incident later, i've realised that it wasn't the punch across the face that i recieved or the stream of harsh, clipping words in German followed by the full-fledged scuffle in the hallway that scared me. It wasn't the empty, lifeless look in Evan's eyes as he tilted his head up at me. It wasn't the sound of metal claws unsheathed from Wolverine. No, what scared me was the way he looked at me as if he knew.  
As if he knew, she was never really mine. 


End file.
